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It is often easier to speak about the parts of life that unfold as we hoped. I could talk all day, every day about the many good things that have come to my life since my wife and I were married. But it can be difficult and awkward to talk about the things that go wrong. Although I love talking about my marriage, it is much more difficult for me to talk about another major life event—when I returned home early from my missionary service for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints after seven months. Speaking about my early return and everything associated with it just does not come easily. That difficulty comes largely from within: at some point, I came to see returning home early as a personal failure—something that should not have happened—and that belief made the subject unusually difficult to discuss.

But what if we took a different perspective? We often talk about all the wonderful personal growth that full-term returned missionaries had while serving, but why should growth that early-returned missionaries go through after they return be any different? Of course, not all outcomes are going to be positive. Coming home early from a mission is a very challenging experience that can set a soul on a catapulting track toward self-discovery and growth. As an early returner, and now as a Ph.D. student in psychology, I was able to get funding to do a study on what causes early returned missionaries to get on that track of growth. 

My Early Return and How It Led Me to This Study

Before turning to the study itself, some personal context may be helpful. These “positive outcomes” may not show up immediately, nor do I think it’s fair to expect oneself or a loved one to cope with such a dramatic life event so easily. In one of my favorite articles, “Bereavement: An Incomplete Rite of Passage,” the author explains that someone may never entirely “get over” the loss of a loved one — they may learn to generally deal with the loss, but their perception of the experience continually shifts and evolves. I feel the same way about my early mission return. When I came back, I was almost numb. A month later, I was feigning happiness. Two months later, I was questioning my faith. Three months later, I began searching for any identity other than “early-returned missionary” that I could affix to myself, yet each “identity” I attempted to develop was more fragile than the last. My grades at Brigham Young University also suffered.

There was only one other existing academic study on early-returned missionaries. I decided to follow its lead in interviewing each person in depth rather than using survey data. Although this process limited the number of people I could involve in the study, other studies on the use of interviews for niche topics find that researchers tend to reach a sufficient sample level at about 12 interviews. The prior study I mentioned included 12 early-returned male missionaries and had questions on mission experiences, early returns, and post-mission adjustment. I wanted to expand upon this research by including women and spending more time speaking about the identity development participants had gone through since their early return and their perceptions of their future. I also remained open to other salient themes that emerged from interviews. So, I recruited 20 early-returned missionaries to participate in this in-depth study — 9 men and 11 women. I would like to stress that this was a highly emotional experience for most people, and I was extremely grateful for the opportunity to interview such wonderful people about their experiences.

Identity transformation

First, every person mentioned feeling an identity transformation in some way. One participant shared:

Honestly, I think coming home from my mission is a really big thing. It really defined who I am as a person and my understanding of church member[s], because before I thought a church member had to be someone [who] grew up in the Church, that served a mission … things like that. Then I [understood] that a church member is someone that just tries their best to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. And so that really [helped] me shape and understand the members of the Church in a broader sense and not just the typical Utah stereotypes. So, I think coming home from my mission definitely helped with that.

This sentiment resonated strongly with my own experience. Even as a missionary, I had felt that coming home early would be a condemnation for the rest of my life, rendering me always some degree of broken in church settings. Only after going through this process did I realize that it truly is impossible for anyone other than Christ to live a fully “perfect” life, and that joy comes in embracing my imperfections and Christ’s role in my redemption.

Hope for the future

Another finding was that 19 of the 20 participants mentioned an optimistic view of how their futures would develop, given their experiences as early-returned missionaries. Another participant shared:

It’s interesting because I feel less … fearful for the future because I’m like, I already have had something that has literally broken me down to lower than I thought I could be at, and I came out of it. So, it kind of gives me more confidence that whatever comes, I know I’ve been through the process before of only having God to rely on.

Personally, I feel the same way — I know that I can do all things through Christ because I have already been at my lowest, and He has lifted me up again.

Peacemaking and reconciliation

A third commonality, shown in 19 of 20 interviews, was that of peacemaking or some form of reconciliation. One early-returned missionary wrote the following in her journal while on the plane home from her mission, “My Heavenly Father is so wise in giving me an experience like this. It forces me to actually fully trust in Him, which I do. This is one of the first experiences in my life that I can’t fully plan out first.”

This was one of my favorite responses. Having a framework of trusting in God built from strongly needing to do so earlier in life can be so beneficial to one’s future. I’m aware that challenges lie in the future, both for me and this early-returned missionary, but trusting in God first above all else has provided a foundation for all of my decisions that will always yield the best outcome — even if I can’t always see it right then.

Empathy

Despite increased empathy for others not being directly referenced on the list of interview questions, the topic came up in 16 of the 20 interviews. One person said, “Had I not seen myself [at] such a low point in my life, then I wouldn’t be able to reach out to others in a similar state.”

This finding in particular is something I would love to explore deeper in future research. How amazing is it that our imperfections and difficult experiences can actually lead us to become more like Christ? Before my early return, I was of the mindset that early-returned missionaries could generally have stayed out if they had just tried harder. Only after returning early despite having given every ounce of dedication and effort to the Lord did I realize that I’d had it all wrong: I feel for people who are in similarly devastating circumstances. I wish I’d had that quality beforehand, but the empathy I developed is one of my most prized possessions, and I thank God for giving it to me.

Faith

A majority (14 out of 20) specifically mentioned having stronger faith in God or religion as a result of their early return during their interviews, while 4 specifically mentioned having weaker faith as a result of their early return. This strong majority of increased faith is encouraging. One person referring to their early return said:

Because of that, the steps I took afterward, it made me read the scriptures harder than I’ve ever read in my life, and it’s made me love just light, seeing people’s light, and the light of Christ in them. I feel like I’m able to see it so easily and I appreciate it so much because I’ve seen the darkness.

Faith is a lifelong journey, and mine has grown as I’ve appreciated the outcomes of my difficulties more and more. It really is amazing to see others appreciate the goodness of Christ even more after having some experience with darkness.

Perceptual change over time

A final theme referenced by the majority of interviewees (12 of 20) was that of perceptual change. One interviewee said, “I guess with more time that passes, I see it in a different way… So, I think it’ll always be in the back of my mind, or it’ll always be something I reference, just because it was very, very starkly different from any other experience I have in my life.”

It is hard to run away from such a formative experience, and I don’t believe it’s best to act like it didn’t happen. As with all difficulties in life, we tend to see our challenges differently with time, as we learn more about God’s love for us as individuals.

What Many Early-Returned Missionaries Still Need

There were more themes that came from these interviews, some of which included negative experiences, but those tended to be highly individual. What did seem to be uniform throughout the interviews was that these people wanted someone to talk to about their experience, but often didn’t feel that they could. One interviewee said that he didn’t have a single person to talk about his early return with — no member of his family would entertain the topic, and he didn’t feel like he could bring it up to his friends. The sense of loneliness this young man exuded was palpable.

Those close to early-returned missionaries can offer an invaluable gift: patient love and a willingness to listen without judgment. Early returners are changing and actively growing, just like you are. We have come a long way as a church community in normalizing the idea that those who might deviate from the normative experience are fully worthy of love and support, but I believe we can be even better, and in attempting to do so, can more fully serve as Christ would.

The post When a Mission Ends Early appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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When I was nineteen, I thought I understood what a mission would be like. I had seen the videos, heard the stories, and imagined the glow of faithful, fulfilling service. But a few weeks into the field, I was already disoriented. It was harder than I’d ever expected—physically, emotionally, spiritually. That uncomfortable realization—that reality wasn’t what I expected—turned out to be one of the greatest gifts of my life.

I now recognize that moment as a kind of Garden of Eden experience: a step out of innocence, into awareness. Into a world where nothing was automatic anymore. And it’s the kind of transition we all make—sometimes in faith, sometimes in relationships, and sometimes in the middle of a quiet Sunday School class.

The Garden of Eden is a story that evokes a number of questions. In considering that story, we sometimes get hung up on particulars like the exact location of the garden; the relationship between the fall and death; God’s language around male-female relationships; and more. These questions can be interesting, but they are peripheral to the intentions of the story. In the story of the Garden of Eden, believers are presented with a model for how we develop as human beings.

Psychologists have long recognized that human development unfolds in stages. Erik Erikson, for example, mapped out a series of life phases—each with a key challenge that can lead either to growth or regression. Others, like Lawrence Kohlberg and James Fowler, explored how our moral reasoning and faith mature over time. While each model differs, they all affirm the same truth: healthy development requires that we move through periods of disorientation, adjustment, and deeper understanding.

I suggest that the Garden of Eden story is the best possible framework for understanding how we develop, and it is relevant across all areas of our lives. The basic contours of the story are

1. A time of innocence, where participation in a system feels automatic;

2. An awakening to awareness that reality is more than what we previously understood, in ways that are beyond our current ability to process well; and

3. Decisions in the direction of growth and development to function well in reality, or in the direction of maladaptive coping strategies that keep us from functioning well in reality.

As an example, I look back on my experience as a missionary. I grew up in a time when the Church was producing emotionally satisfying audiovisual materials to promote gospel concepts. Among those materials was a 1990 video called “Labor of Love,” which depicted missionary service as a clean and comfortable series of positive experiences. With that as a reference point, I entered missionary service in Brazil in 1993, and quickly found myself shocked and overwhelmed by missionary life that was stressful, frustrating, and physically exhausting. Before I entered the mission field, my future mission experience had only existed in theory, informed by positive stories that had been told to me. My commitment to my mission had been automatic, but now I had new information that led to daily decision points of actively choosing. I was no longer in the garden, where problems and challenges and irony (the “thorns and thistles” described to Adam and Eve by God) exist only in theory.

This process of leaving the garden and then facing these choices is one we face in church callings, but also many other areas of life: marriage, child-rearing, university studies, military service, career, and more. For most of our significant life experiences, there is a process of bringing to the experience an automatic commitment based on our paradigm of what the experience will be; then seeing differences between reality and our paradigm; then facing developmental crossroads in how we choose to respond.

In the Garden of Eden story, there is another aspect of awareness that greatly determines whether our departure from a garden of life experience becomes developmentally positive or negative. In restoration scripture, we read “And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they had been naked…”. In other words, they had become aware that there was a gap in their understanding of themselves and the world around them.

The way that we become aware of these gaps in our perspective matters. Our restoration understanding of Adam and Eve’s new awareness of their nakedness is that it was presented to them as something shameful. To represent Satan as a serpent in the garden is an excellent teaching tool, because his objective was to poison Adam and Eve using the venom of shame as they made their transition to new awareness. In his narrative, their nakedness meant that they were lacking and deficient. And worse, it was God who had allowed them to live in the garden in ignorance of that shameful situation. This was the venom of the accusing serpent in the garden.

I do not mean to suggest here that shame is always a bad thing to experience. I know of a number of situations where a sense of shame has been the catalyst for positive personal transformation. In some cases, shame is the only thing that will lead a person to reverse from a destructive path they have chosen. But when facing a common Garden of Eden-like developmental crossroads—the simple experience of being awakened to gaps in our paradigm and expectations—shame is not helpful or appropriate.

“Your mission experience is not what you envisioned, and that means one or both of two possibilities: you are stupid and clueless and live in a fantasy world, or you were deceived by people who gave you the wrong impression of the missionary experience.”

Or,

“Your mission experience is not what you envisioned, but making adjustments to our paradigms and expectations for our life experiences is normal. There is tremendous growth available to us in the process, and in your mission experience, the Savior is eager to lead you through that process over time.”

The first message reflects the patterns of shaming that are found in much of the critical messaging from disaffected members and former members of the Church. In critical spaces, a simple developmental crossroads, like my becoming aware of the humanity and shortcomings of prominent people in scripture and church history, is framed in shame: the difficulty of making adjustments to my paradigm is a sign that I am deficient or I have been wronged. I’m hurting, so obviously it’s my fault or someone else’s fault. Either I or the Church needs to be blamed and shamed. When our loved ones leave the covenant path and isolate themselves defensively, that is a good indicator that they have internalized narratives of shame. Letting go of that poison will allow them to reconnect with us and, in some cases, resume spiritual development. But that can be a long process of returning to their developmental crossroads and making a different choice.

How does this apply to our gospel questioning? It is clear that not all questions are equal. Some are designed to keep people developmentally stuck. In critical spaces, gospel questioning is infused with shaming, accusatory venom. Consider the form of each of these “questions”:

“Obviously, good people do x. So, why do church leaders do y?” (an accusation/insinuation disguised as a question)

“I’m totally open to accepting the Church’s teachings, as soon as unresolvable brain teaser x is resolved to my satisfaction. How do you resolve x?” (a false commitment presented as a question)

“I’m not really willing to apply myself to do the work to understand issue x in depth. So, can you explain it to me in a way that meets all my expectations, validates me, and fits within my worldview?” (an impossible demand presented as a question)

None of these are really questions. They are shaming, dishonesty, and entitlement presented in the form of questions. Sadly, some online spaces reinforce patterns of questioning that are less about curiosity and more about blame.

“I have studied x, y, z materials on this gospel topic. Are these the best possible resources, or are there some I’m missing? My understanding is _____. Is that accurate, or is there a better way to understand this concept?”

“Are there aspects of my worldview, my life experiences, or my personality that are causing me to see this issue the way I do? Are there other emotional or cognitive lenses through which I can examine this information that would open up new possible understandings?”

Here, questioning comes from genuine openness and curiosity. There is no sense of shame over a lack of understanding. I come to my questioning with a positive view that with new resources, there might be a need to make further adjustments to thinking, and that is okay. It is a normal process of spiritual and intellectual growth. And if someone is not engaged in that same process of seeking, it does not mean that they are deficient in any way, or that they are being “kept in the dark,” or any number of other grievance narratives that are inappropriately applied to normal human experience.

This is the developmental crossroads of gospel questioning. Without an awareness of the choices available to us, we can be led to narrow and cynical biases and undertake our gospel questioning like a fearful, wounded animal. With awareness, we can approach our gospel questioning with the bias of charity, free of the poison of shame.

And to be biased by charity is what it means to be truly open-minded.

In our own gospel wrestling, may we choose that bias of charity. It doesn’t just help us grow—it keeps us connected to one another, and to the God who waits for us outside the garden, ready to walk with us again.

The post What the Garden of Eden Teaches About Gospel Questions appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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The pulsating melody of Mack Wilburg’s “O Light of Life!” ran before the sight of the choir. I inwardly exclaimed my excitement as memories of the first time I heard the song flooded back into my mind. A lonely, 19-year-old missionary lays on the floor of his flat, attempting to cool down. His first week in a new area, he listens to a new CD after a hot day of service doing yard work under the Australian summer sun. He needs to shower and change from his sweaty, muddied work clothes into a white shirt and tie. He only has a couple of moments before he must hurry to be on time for a dinner and lesson hosted by a local church-member family and one of their friends who is interested in their church. All the while, he tries to catch his breath and find a peaceful moment …

This upcoming July 13th will mark the 5,000th episode of Music & the Spoken Word. This weekly live broadcast of inspiring messages, imagery, and music presented by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints features musical performances by The Tabernacle Choir, Orchestra, Bells, and Organists at Temple Square. Such a milestone represents nine decades of weekly broadcasts, making it the world’s longest continuing network broadcast in history. To prepare for the upcoming celebration, Public Square, along with other advocate organizations for the Church, were invited to meet some of the Music & The Spoken Word production team, watch the Choir rehearse, and tour their facilities and performance venues.

The evening began with guests gathering together in the Salt Lake City Conference Center’s indoor plaza. The grand space with vast stone floors, polished wood walls, and larger-than-life murals depicting New Testament and Book of Mormon scenes was lit by the warm glow of the setting sun, glinting through high windows crowned by frosted glass beehive motifs. Pearly white, the marble Christus statue gleamed from the second-story balcony. Other groups began to filter in. Mostly, it seemed like local YSA and youth groups, along with tourists and the occasional local regular, all chatting joyfully and dressed in arrays of casual attire, waiting for the auditorium doors to permit them into the Choir’s weekly rehearsal. Initially confused by the large gathering, I learned from a young, smiling sister missionary that the Choir opens their rehearsals to the public for free every Thursday evening (rehearsal attendance details here). While the gathering crowd went into the Conference Center Auditorium, our group was guided outside.

We walked South along raised flower beds full of fragrant and gorgeous early summer blossoms on our path toward the iconic Tabernacle at Temple Square. Myself born and raised in Utah though recently home from living abroad in Europe, the structure of the Salt Lake City Temple––with its undeniable European influence (SAH Archipedia)––peeking out from under its renovation scaffolding granted me a sense of gratitude and amazement at the accomplishment of those European pioneers who made that same trek. What took me 28 hours of plane ride for a year-and-a-half of studies, took them just about the same amount of time to travel one way as my whole experience abroad (The Convert Immigrants). Passing between huge, dark wood doors, we entered the large, domed oval tabernacle. Frank Lloyd Wright, famed American architect, called this building “one of the architectural masterpieces of the country and perhaps the world” (Henrichsen and Dixon). Similar praise for the innovative design of the hall earned its place as a National Historic Landmark in 1970 and the first National Civil Engineering Landmark in 1971 (SAH Archipedia).

The ovular, white-domed roof sits atop rows of dark wood pews with a second-story balcony all facing toward the rostrum, choir stalls, and large pipe organ. The silhouette of this organ’s facade is immediately recognizable to Latter-day Saint worshippers as the icon on all our sacred music and has served for years as the logo for the Tabernacle Choir. The vast majority of the building’s structure is original, and the decor is lovingly preserved. Upon closer inspection, one may notice that the dark wood, at first appearing as dark oak, is in reality hand-painted pine. Pine, the available Utah native wood, was hand-painted darker to look like the color and grain of oak––a reminder of the native wood in the Eastern United States, home for most of these now settled immigrants.

In the art of placemaking, there is the ever-desirable goal of creating a space that is uniquely itself. When in the Tabernacle on Temple Square, there is a tangible sense of experiencing an entirely individual expression of the Latter-day Saint pioneer culture during the mid-late 1800s. The building has an almost minimalist focus: a place for gathering, hearing, speaking, and music-making. Unique among instruments, an organ is an instrument that is fully integrated into the architecture of the building. Like the relationship between the strings on a guitar and the belly of the guitar acting as a resonator, the pipes of an organ resonate within the cavern of the building. The Tabernacle is more than a building; it is a massive musical instrument.

Our guide pointed out an open access hatch into the complex interior of the organ casework. Joseph Ridges’ instrument of 11,623 pipes, 206 ranks, 147 stops, and mechanical air pumps extending all the way to the back of the hall requires daily maintenance and tuning by 1 or 2 organ techs with PhDs. There I saw a hand-written sign saying, “Please Do Not Turn on The Organ––We are working inside!” I chuckled, wondering what experience necessitated the sign. In addition to the Choir’s weekly rehearsal, the 5 Organists of Temple Square present a “century-old tradition” of daily open-to-the-public organ recitals (recital attendance details here).

Growing up, I had often heard urban legends about the network of tunnels beneath the five blocks of Temple Square, but this was the first time I finally got to walk through them. The network was clean but winding, with the combined facilities for servicing the logistics of the Tabernacle Choir, Bells, Organists, and Orchestra all underneath the Tabernacle building, accessible through a south-facing entrance with a tunnel leading under the street over to the Conference Center.

Of these subterranean facilities, our group saw: 

• The Women’s wardrobe and changing space with 5 dresses and jewelry for each sister in the choir. 
• A completely wood recording studio large enough to fit large musical ensembles and doubling for Chorale rehearsals (the 9-month vetting process of new choir members led by Ryan Murphy, complete with a written exam).
• The audio control studio, which services not only the Choir and Music & the Spoken Word but any major broadcast or recording for the Church, includes a wall-to-wall screen showing the Choir, and a massive mixing board of 128 analog channels. We silently walked into the space just in time to watch the designer, whose job it is to achieve the iconic warm, clear, and deep (“full-bodied”) tone of the Choir near the end of a rendition of “You’ll Never Walk Alone”. In live-time, the sound for every live broadcast is recorded digitally in the Conference Hall, then immediately sent across the street via fiber-optic cable to this studio, where it is converted and mixed in analog, then converted back into digital and sent back across the street to the Conference Center from where it is broadcast. When asked why they go through such a rigamarole, he replied, “It just sounds better.”
• Where once there was a baptismal font and religious gathering space, now the full-time staff offices––including Mack Wilburg’s––reside.
• The music library of over a million copies of music, supplying each choir, orchestra, organist, and bell musician with their own music in their own locker.
• Behind the library––“The Horse Shoe”––a large rehearsal space with two of the three practice organs and a giant lift for moving large instruments and set pieces from underground onto the stage.
• The ‘backstage area’ immediately behind the rostrum and organ, originally designed for presiding authorities to meet, now additionally serves as lovely green rooms for presenters and guest artists.

These spaces facilitate the movement of the 400 volunteer choir members (with 360 singing at any one time), 200 orchestra volunteer members (of which 85 perform at a time), 32 musicians in the Bells ensemble, five organists, over 50 backstage technicians, a 20 person full time staff, and over 100 logistics volunteers all coordinated underneath the sloping, raked seats of the Tabernacle.

After our tour of the Tabernacle, we retraced our steps back toward the conference hall. By this time, the sun had completely set, and a warm glow emanated from the interior of the Conference Center Auditorium. Before our eyes could explore the details of the massive auditorium, waves of music greeted us.

It was at this point that the memories from my mission passed before my mind’s eye, prompted by the same song, “O Light of Life!” Both on that day (over a decade ago) as a lonely missionary in Australia and today, visiting Temple Square as I walked into the auditorium, I saw the same smiling face. Michelle Pollard and her family became dear friends nearly immediately. That night at dinner, as soon as they learned I could keep a pitch, I was immediately propped against a piano for an impromptu concert of Les Misérables. With members of the family taking their turns, including a grand finale from Michelle singing Phantom of the Opera. At the time, Michelle led the local Moe Ward choir (which I was commanded to participate in), earning acclaim from the then mission President Cory Maxwell and his wife Karen Bradshaw Maxwell––a former Tabernacle Choir member herself––who punningly dubbed the group of vocalists “The Moe Tabernacle Choir.” At dinner, conversation turned to favorite hymns and primary songs, and particular favorite recordings of the then “Mormon Tabernacle Choir.” Afterward, I remember Michelle sighing, then telling me, “I don’t know how, but someday I will sing in that choir.” I nodded because she was obviously talented, yet shrugged, admittedly doubting; 8.5 thousand miles, half the globe seemed to stand between her and such a dream.

With that memory in mind, I was reminded of something Choir President Mike Leavitt said earlier that evening to our group. He mentioned, “Every human being needs quiet moments of reflection,” and The Choir produces music for people in such moments “to draw closer to the divine and feel God’s love for His children” (Our Mission). The initially lonely but blessed night on my mission was no exception. Executive Producer and Announcer Derrick Porter shared what he’s learned during their recent initiative to hear listeners’ memories with the Music & the Spoken Word program. The program has delivered weekly uninterrupted broadcasts through the Great Depression, World War II, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the assassination of President Kennedy, 9/11, and the COVID-19 pandemic (Rappleye, Church News). Its broadcast has been heard in 50 countries, the depths of the ocean in submarines, the frozen expanse of Antarctica, and the summits of Fuji and even Everest. The reach of the program has an incredible heritage.

Whatever the circumstances of your life, may you find a moment of quiet contemplation. Enjoy your opportunity to share in Music & the Spoken Word’s 5,000th episode legacy this July 13th at 9:00 AM (MT) either in-person or by livestream via the Choir’s YouTube channel. I pass along their warm welcome to visit Temple Square for free to see its beautiful grounds, buildings, and venue tours, organ recitals, choir rehearsals, events, and future broadcasts. And “until we meet again, may peace be with you this day and always” (Music & the Spoken Word salutation).

The post From Dust Bowl to COVID: One Choir’s 5,000-Week Witness appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Behold, I am God and have spoken it; these commandments are of me, and were given unto my servants in their weakness, after the manner of their language, that they might come to understanding. And inasmuch as they erred it might be made known; And inasmuch as they sought wisdom they might be instructed; … And inasmuch as they were humble they might be made strong, and blessed from on high, and receive knowledge from time to time.

God meets man where he is, in his weakness, in his current cultural understanding and language, and then seeks to teach him more. 

From the beginning of the Restoration, one of the most significant doctrines and truths that God has strived to unravel from false traditions and uninspired interpretations of the Bible is a correct understanding of women and their role in “the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth.” Since the Fall, bias against women has become humanity’s oldest prejudice.

Understanding women’s role in the gospel and God’s kingdom was of great interest and concern to President Boyd K. Packer. It was a point of deep personal study and reflection for him. He believed that women and the Relief Society were akin to a rising sun. He said, “the light and the power that emanates [from them] will increase, not decrease.” It became clear from his teachings that one of the ways the Church would come out of obscurity was as the women came out of obscurity.

President Kimball’s similar prophecy is more commonly known: “Much of the major growth that is coming to the Church in the last days will come because … women of the Church are seen as distinct and different” [italics added]. When this prophecy was given in 1979, TikTok, Instagram, and Facebook were unimaginable. President Kimball never would have guessed the scope of reach or the nuanced technology that would facilitate the prophesied visibility of women in the Church. 

The Washington Post recently went so far as to dub “2024 the Year of the Mormon Women.” LDS Women are, as prophesied, coming out of obscurity. While the image of LDS women portrayed in pop culture and social media is varied and sometimes controversial, they are definitely more seen, and their influence is undeniable.

An article reporting the story was published in the Salt Lake Tribune in November 2023, followed by an op-ed in February 2024 written by the Bay Area Stake YW’s president. These articles made the situation public and sparked much debate on social media platforms and podcasts. It brought to light that a handful of congregations scattered throughout the U.S. and Europe currently have women leaders sitting on the stand. The literal increase of women’s visibility through sitting on the stand has once again brought the question of women and their role in the Church to the forefront. 

Elder Dallin H. Oaks once said, 

We live in a day when there are many political, legal, and social pressures for changes that confuse gender and homogenize the differences between men and women. … We do not oppose all changes in the treatment of men and women, since some changes in laws or customs simply correct old wrongs that were never grounded in eternal principles. 

But how do we rightly discern which social pressures correct old wrongs and which ones confuse eternal principles? Sister Eliza R. Snow captured the essence of such debates: 

The status of women is one of the questions of the day. Socially and politically, it forces itself upon the attention of the world. Some … refuse to concede that a woman is entitled to the enjoyment of any rights other than those which the whims, fancies, or justice, as the case may be, of men may choose to grant her. … Others, again, not only recognize that a woman’s status should be improved but are so radical in their extreme theories that they would set her in antagonism to man, assuming for her a separate and opposing existence…. These are two extremes, and between them is the ‘golden mean.’

Finding that ‘golden mean’ is still the challenge of our day. Just as the Lord gave his servants power to bring His Church out of obscurity and darkness, He likewise gave them power to bring women out of obscurity. President George Albert Smith described the moment the Prophet Joseph turned the key for women in 1842 as “the emancipation of womankind … for all the world, and from generation to generation the number of women who can enjoy the blessings of religious liberty and civil liberty has been increasing.” But bringing women out of obscurity is both a literal and figurative process. Understanding the significant role of women in the Church and the power God has given them has come in conjunction with them becoming more visible. However, if women are seen but not comprehended, the result may be increased competition rather than greater cooperation, as evidenced in other spheres. 

Therefore, it’s paramount to understand what has been revealed. Women were always meant to have a place in the Church, working side by side with their brothers to save souls. Sister Eliza R. Snow related that Joseph Smith taught the women that the Relief Society was an integral part of the Restoration and is, therefore, more than just an organization led by women. It is a society equal in weight and significance to a quorum, for covenant women patterned after the order of the priesthood. Sister Snow declared, “Although the name may be of modern date, the institution is of ancient origin. We were told by our martyred prophet that the same organization existed in the church anciently.” In the ancient church, women journeyed with Jesus and the Twelve Apostles. Christ invited Mary and Martha to become His disciples, and they actively participated in his ministry along with other women like Johanna, Susanna, Tabitha, and Phebe. Following Christ’s resurrection, “women continued to be faithful disciples (and) met and prayed together with the Apostles.”

Likewise, President Russell M. Nelson has pleaded with women to come out of obscurity and play a more active role in leadership in the Church and the home. 

My dear sisters, … we need your impressions, your insights, and your inspiration. We need you to speak up and speak out in ward and stake councils. We need each married sister to speak as ‘a contributing and full partner’ as you unite with your husband in governing your family. 

Furthermore, the recent changes President Nelson has made to the temple ordinances have helped increase the visibility of women figuratively and literally and have helped make a woman’s direct covenantal relationship with God brilliantly clear. 

President Nelson further expanded the scope of priesthood doctrinally by inviting women to consider how scriptures that traditionally were thought to pertain only to holders of the priesthood also pertain to covenant-keeping women (i.e., Sections 84 and 107). Women were even invited in general conference to memorize the oath and covenant of the priesthood, something only previously assumed to concern men.  

Certainly, in the past decade, we have become more accustomed to speaking in terms of women having priesthood power, authority, and responsibilities. This has led to an increased understanding of women of God and their potential to lead and contribute.  However, I am unsure if we have found the ‘golden mean’ yet because, culturally, our values are based on the world’s measuring stick rather than God’s. 

God’s Value System

Culturally, we have been led to adopt the value system of the world, which is based on competition and scarcity. As a result, we have been persuaded to believe that those people with the most visibility or recognition must be valued more. Like the world, we think in terms of exclusivity as best. We set ourselves apart by emphasizing those unique things that make us different from each other rather than those that make us similar. The value system of a telestial world asserts that “if everyone is special, then no one is special.” 

However, God works under a very different value system, one President Nelson has tried to help us understand. When he ranked the most important identifiers he values in order, he said: 

First, I am a child of God—a son of God—then a son of the covenant, then a disciple of Jesus Christ and a devoted member of His restored Church. Next would come my honored titles as a husband and father.

Notice how he ranks his most valued label with the most shared, universal label of us all—a child of God. His labels then become gradually more exclusive. 

Most of us do the opposite. We rank our labels, usually beginning with those that are the most exclusive or distinct—those that set us apart as different and unique from others around us. Perhaps this is one of Satan’s most subtle strategies of dividing us. If we view titles, church callings, or labels of most exclusivity as best, we relate to one another from a space of scarcity and singularity. But if we rank our best labels in terms of those most inclusive and encompassing, we begin from a space of abundance and equality. There is a remarkable and profound difference in where each will lead. Scarcity leads to competition, which leads to winners and losers, fear and pride, the haves and the have-nots. On the other hand, abundance leads to cooperation, celebrating unique talents and interests, and seeing what each can give to the whole. Beginning at this point of inclusion, as children of God, may not appear very significant at first, but when we look at where it leads, we see the outcome is the difference between heaven and hell.

In our current church culture, we are still wrestling with overcoming the damning mindset of competition and scarcity, especially in terms of church callings and supposed positions of power and leadership. We apply the world’s value system when we attach greater importance to those who hold Church callings of the most visibility or prominence. Callings have become a way of validating one’s worthiness, spirituality, or importance, but Christ never taught this.

Whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister. And whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant; Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.

Who is great in the eyes of God? A minister. What is the most common calling in the Church? A minister. Do we see what Christ is trying to teach about his character and values? God gives his best to as many of his children as possible. His economy is completely opposite ours. The greatest is the least. The servant is the leader. Christ warned that those in His day could not accept or understand His doctrines because “they seeing see not; and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand.” If Church members choose to measure power and influence with the same value system the world uses, we will likewise be blind to all God wants us to see and understand. 

As we consider the increasing visibility of women in the Church and pop culture, we would do well to consider which value system we are using to measure success. The Washington Post ranked 2024 a breakout year for Mormon Women because, from a worldly value system, the number of “followers” is in the millions, and search inquiries with the words “Mormon women” on Google were more than ever recorded. Is this what President Kimball prophesied? Is this the “coming out of obscurity” that President Packer felt would be important to bringing the entire Church out of obscurity? Perhaps in part, but coming out of obscurity has more to do with both women and men finally learning to value what God values, love what Christ loves, and see as They see.

Christ strived to help all his disciples see that true power does not come from position but from godliness. Christ elevated women in his day, consequently bringing them out of obscurity because he recognized a divine kinship with women—that women do physically what Christ does spiritually. Women have been endowed with the power and gifts to be life-givers, nurturers, teachers, healers, comforters, and willing servants who wipe away tears, clothe spirit in flesh and flesh in swaddling linen, and feed the hungry before feeding themselves. If we could see with Godly eyes, we would see that women naturally have access to the most tremendous power in the universe. If we could see as Christ taught his disciples to see with Godly eyes—that the least is actually the greatest, and that sacrifice, not might, rends veils, and that donning an apron and washing feet is the work Christ did and wants us to do—the scales of darkness would fall. Women and their value would come out of obscurity.

When Joseph Smith organized the Relief Society, he told them their objective was “not only to relieve the poor but to save souls.” He further explained, “The turning of the key, the creation of the [Relief] society itself, opened to women their place and responsibility in the organization of the church.” As the Doctrine and Covenants preface relates, the Restoration would come through a process of trial and error and faith. The restoration of the doctrine of women and their relationship to God’s power and priesthood began to emerge from obscurity when Joseph Smith first turned his prophetic keys on their behalf and seems to have accelerated in the past decade through the prophetic keys of President Nelson and others.

So, how do we obtain this “interdependency of men and women in accomplishing God’s work”? We must first recognize God’s immense trust and power in women and then seek to bring their voices and strengths out of obscurity—not so women can be more seen than men, but so their gifts and contributions can be more enjoyed and realized. This is not a time of women usurping men and their stewardships but taking their different but equal place alongside them. Getting men and women working and counseling better together, not just sitting together, will be key to bringing about Zion. 

When the Lord brought Israel out of Egypt, he did so with men and women leaders and a key holder who guided them both. Micah 6:4 reads: “For I brought thee out of the land of Egypt, and redeemed thee out of the house of servants; and I sent before thee Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.” This trifecta is now reflected in the harmony and cooperative responsibilities of the Bishop, Elders Quorum, and Relief Society presidents. 

President Kimball prophesied about women’s significant role in the last days. President Eyring said that women have been given the “spiritual capacity to nurture others and … qualify them to live in a Zion society.” In many ways, our day resembles the days of Enoch. God is again working through his prophet to prepare a Zion people, and since women will play a key role in that preparation, we must include them more in the Work. As we do so, we will understand more completely how the blessings of the priesthood are liberal to all, that presiding and leadership have nothing to do with personal glory, but God’s glory, and that Jesus Christ continues to invite us to learn to love as He loves and value what He values. As men and women unite in following His supreme example as the servant leader, they will unlock the synergistic power God personifies and the Divine Oneness possible when men and women unite their gifts, not in competition but in cooperation, not in scarcity but abundance, not in opposition but in harmony, and at last arrive at the ‘golden mean’ and Zion, being of one heart and one mind.

The post Women of the Restoration: Influence Beyond the Stand appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

But to me, faith and its challenges are neither relics of history nor mere fodder for Hollywood. They became so much more on August 16, when a man broke into my missionary apartment and stabbed my companion and me multiple times in our sleep. We woke up and fought with the man for about 10 minutes, just struggling to preserve our lives. This experience was extremely rare and was so targeted and so unheard of that it was simply unpreventable. Through God’s mercy alone, we were eventually able to call 911 and escape. I sustained 9 stab wounds. I was 19 years old and had been serving as a young missionary for just ten weeks of what was supposed to be an 18-month assignment. My area of service was just north of Houston, Texas, and the COVID-19 pandemic was in full force.

When I look back on that night now over four years later, I view it all as the most sacred night of my life. Every wound, every scream, every breath, every prayer was the making of a miracle and has brought me closer to God than I could ever imagine. However, in my mind’s eye, I can still see and feel the original terror of that night. Blood soaked the carpet and stained the walls like the zombie escape room I did with friends in 11th grade. We were trapped inside our own home fighting for freedom, with one man preying on our sleeping innocence and vulnerability: an eerie parallel to Heretic’s setting. Bleeding out on our floor with a stab through my stomach—my companion with one to her neck—made a striking comparison to Heretic’s ending for the fictional Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton.

I could not have been more mistaken. Although Heretic’s directors and actors showed a marked effort to improve representation in many areas, nothing could justify the targeted emotional and physical consequences that members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints could experience from this film. It is almost as if the writers built a trojan horse of happy interviews showing their good faith to build an accurate wardrobe, research the Book of Mormon, and learn missionary lingo, while deep inside the film was an attack that, whether advertently or inadvertently, could significantly harm members, missionaries, and investigators of the faith. They justify and say this is a fictional film, but that’s because they have not heard my story.

From the very first day, I described the physical scene as a real-life horror movie. Many people reached out after my recovery, good-naturedly suggesting that it could be made into a movie someday. But I knew four years ago that something like what I went through should not be made into a movie—at least one could never attempt to show what actually happened in that apartment. I could not imagine anyone else having to see or feel that violence, and I knew the full experience could never be captured. I cringed after returning home when I realized how many people find entertainment in movies with gore and terror every single day. 

Yet, for every captive audience fascinated by horror, there are people around the world who live captive in horror as their reality. Sure, you can say, the movies are just fiction, but Heretic is not a fictional world. The writers and directors, Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, made it off of real life: the lives of righteous, virtuous, hard-working young adults all around the world dedicating themselves to bringing hope and salvation to others. Their mission is to save, and yet this movie, with actual missionary outfits, with their conversations, their name tags, their teachings, and their sacred calling, strikes harm against their message and against missionaries themselves.

Originally, I will admit I was hesitant to speak up about this movie at all because of my proximity to its controversial nature. I resolved long ago that I never wanted my story to be used for anything but a promotion of love and faith in God. After careful consideration though, I do not believe that this runs contrary to that purpose. Since God saved my life, I promised that I would stand for Him with every breath, and I cannot help but feel that He would be weeping to see His precious missionaries portrayed in violence and His sacred doctrine used in the context of horror for entertainment. Add my mission experience to my undergraduate studies and career beginnings in journalism and religious freedom advocacy, and it almost seemed as if God had given me a perfectly tailored background to prepare me to speak up when Heretic was released. 

I know that not all Latter-day Saints or even all missionaries will view Heretic the way I do. It is important to note that the A24 team did make an effort to correctly portray some of the doctrines of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I also have returned missionary friends who feel that Heretic brings new understanding and compassion towards the missionary experience. Acknowledging all of this, my experience has shown that the good does not outweigh the bad in this case, and both the creators and innocent viewers may be completely unaware of what a movie like this could promote.

I read hundreds of reviews praising the acting and the masterful cinematography—and I kept asking myself, where are the people disturbed by Heretic’s message? Where are the believers banding together to push back and promote faith? Where are the watchdogs saying that something about this movie goes a little too far? I thought if I just kept scrolling, I would surely find a wise internet stranger who shared my concerns, yet there was nothing more negative to be found than simply calling the movie ‘slow-paced’ or boring. So, in its absence, I hope in good faith to shed some light and speak here for the other side: to counter the popular narrative and raise a voice for believers, for missionaries, and for the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ, which I hold sacred.

Hollywood’s Fascination with Latter-day Saints 

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has long been a favorite feature religion of Hollywood. Many have referred to the faith as an easy target, with its mysterious and sensational elements like visiting angels, modern temples, ‘extra scripture,’ sacred underclothing, and even the iconic missionary duo being used to capture an audience. Heretic’s writers are no exception. With this high intrigue, the Church has been held under a very close microscope for the public eye, where Hollywood has managed to portray just about every facet of the Church … except the truth.

Our current prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, has invited “responsible media” to be “sympathetic” in using the correct name of our church, but even these directors and actors who claim to accurately represent the Church have referred to it in slang terms disregarding the religion’s central focus on Jesus Christ. These inaccuracies snowball to simply perpetuate the preexisting stereotypes of misrepresentation, and religious misrepresentation is religious persecution so long as it engenders doubt, disbelief, mistrust, or disrespect toward any religious sect.

Along with such negligent factual errors, the movie’s villain, Mr. Reed, concludes that the underlying factor and the only true form of religion is control. Specifically, misogynistic control. This theme seems to push a very niche concern from former members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, where some attack priesthood leadership or claim, like Mr. Reed, that members are blinded from the Church’s history or accept teachings just because it is what they have been taught throughout their lives by religious authority figures. 

As a practicing adult and covenant woman in the Church of Jesus Christ, I strongly reject this claim. While fully fleshing out a counterargument to this could be an entire article by itself, it is sufficient here to say that I have felt loved and empowered by leaders of both genders within the Church and learned that, although naturally imperfect, they are called by God. This knowledge has come from a witness of the Holy Spirit, which is the only way to find the truth of these things, and yet remains an element completely unaddressed by Heretic’s writers.

It’s about Heresy, not a Heretic

I do not expect everyone to believe as I do, nor do I oppose open discussion if that is Heretic’s intent here. After all, asking questions in pursuit of truth is central to the gospel of Jesus Christ. But the way Heretic raises questions—through displaying violence and disrespecting sacred beliefs—could never create bridges of understanding. It only serves to endanger young, faithful men and women seeking to do good and does so under the guise of “religious dialogue.”

Perhaps the most sacrilegious moment comes when a woman lifts a missionary’s skirt, exposing her temple garment—a private, sacred expression of faith akin to the Muslim hijab or Jewish yarmulke. The film’s creators had no qualms about violating a young woman and this intimate aspect of her belief. 

“First, they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a communist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak out for me.”

At its core, Heretic is not just a movie about Latter-day Saints. The film is not concerned with whether the heretic is a missionary leaving their former beliefs or Mr. Reed attacking their traditional religious upbringing because the individual believer or religion was never the main point. No, this movie is not about a heretic at all. It is just about heresy—about promoting disbelief or irreligion—and the most disturbing part is that the actors and directors enjoyed generating this doubt and did so intentionally.

Real Religious Dialogue Will Speak the Truth

As someone who has experienced a very similar reality to what was portrayed, I can confidently say that Heretic completely misses the mark. From the doctrinal attacks to the physical ones, the movie was designed to engender doubt. But I have heard just about every doctrinal argument Mr. Reed raises (trust me, they would be no surprise to real missionaries). I have suffered extreme violence as a missionary that could give me every reason to turn against God. I have had my faith tested and tried, almost to the point of dying for it, but unlike these fictional characters, every one of these experiences proved to build my faith. Beck and Woods thought they were making a movie to question absolute truth—to even question the existence of God—but what they did not know is that they were portraying my path to learn the truth about God with absolute certainty. 

Simply put, what Heretic got wrong is not so much the doctrinal inaccuracies as it is the missed potential that this movie had to finally represent the truth of a path shared by millions of church members and billions of believers all around the world.

Indeed, the truth is that one of the only reasons I survived my own completely unpredictable danger is because my companion remembered and followed instructions we read only the day before in the missionary handbook as part of our routine studies. The truth is that my priesthood leader felt inspired months prior to utter a blessing with minutely specific protections that would save my vital organs. The truth is that any missionary who lay dying would not, like the fictional Sister Paxton, use her last breaths to deny the reality of prayer. The real truth is that God would have never left them as He never left me, and that as I wrestled in the darkness against a force of death greater than I could overcome, I prayed with all the energy of my soul and felt the presence of God save me as clearly as if He were standing before me. 

The truth is that people like Mr. Reed do not win and that God protects and provides, whether in life or in death so that we can witness of His love and mercy.

This is the true story of our faith, the power of belief. The spiritual witness, the miracles, the connection to heaven—this is the real truth of religion, and no attempt to portray members or missionaries is complete without it. This is the opportunity for true religious representation that Heretic lost and that the media misses any time they fear promoting religion or deny its good fruits for lack of tangible evidence.  But if you, like Mr. Reed, are looking for something tangible in your experiment of belief, start with my story. Because I am tangible evidence that tragedy and horror, when fought with Christ, will build faith, not destroy it, and that with true religious dialogue this same story can make anyone a believer, not a heretic.

The post Heretic in Real Life: A Missionary’s True Story of Survival and Faith appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Yet, Heretic, which features Hugh Grant in a maniacal role that surprises those who still most closely associate him with titles like Sense and Sensibility and Two Weeks’ Notice, has left many viewers assuming that the film’s thesis is voiced by its villain. That thesis is that all religion is manmade and fundamentally about control.

The film starts with a hook that writer-directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (A Quiet Place) apparently wrote a decade before embarking on the rest of the film, the idea of a pair of sister missionaries being drawn into a home to discuss religion with someone who turns out to have not only ideas that will challenge them spiritually, but plans that will threaten their very lives. The film acknowledges, but side-steps, the missionary safety rule about having another female in the house in order to teach with a lie from Mr. Reed (Hugh Grant) that his wife is in the other room baking pie. 

The sense of foreboding is immediately palpable, but the horror tropes that increasingly alert the audience that this is a bad situation accelerate alongside an increasingly adversarial discussion from Mr. Reed on the problems he sees with religion. The two run so much in parallel, in fact, that it begins to feel like the fear these young women are clearly feeling is a result of having their beliefs criticized and not the fear for their physical safety. 

They seem to be as much afraid that he is right about their church as they are that he might hurt them, the equating of which is a little insulting considering how much criticism missionaries and members of the Church, in general, hear constantly (his arguments are older news than he thinks) and how much unchecked violence happens against women all the time. In some ways, it would be a male privilege to hear this oration and be more afraid of the ideas than of the locks on every door and the proximity of the unhinged gentleman who clearly has nefarious intent. 

It calls to mind the recent interview from The Graham Norton Show that went viral when actress Saoirse Ronan sat with an otherwise all-male panel listening to them discuss the ridiculousness of self-defense tactics like using the butt of your phone as a weapon. Actor Paul Mescal’s sarcastic response was, “Who’s actually going to think about that? If someone attacks me, I’m not going to go—phone!” The other men in the room proceeded to laugh and act out the supposed silliness of that thought process before Ronan interrupted them by saying, “That’s what girls have to think about all the time,” which left the others speechless and the females in the audience clapping their agreement.

Yes, it was unusual to give the “baddie” nearly half the film for his big “why I did it” monologue, but it wasn’t the only reason that the audience came away from the film feeling the filmmakers must agree with him. 

Despite a more nuanced than usual depiction of Latter-day Saint characters (sloppy and incorrect references and terminology notwithstanding, CLICK HERE for a great fact checking piece), the film ultimately fell into the trap that seems inevitable when a film weighing atheism against belief is made by non-believers. There is an underlying assumption that a person of faith is just a person who hasn’t suffered enough to realize they’re an atheist yet. 

I don’t think most faithful people assume that all atheists secretly believe in God, but it seems to be the irrevocable mainstream view that if you push a faithful person far enough, they will ultimately admit that their belief was a front all along. 

It is perfectly verbalized by Anthony Hopkins as Sigmund Freud in the 2023 film Freud’s Last Session, an imagined meeting between C.S. Lewis and Freud in the final days of the psychoanalyst’s life. In their day together, an air raid siren sounds, and as they evacuate to a shelter, C.S. Lewis reacts with terror (and what we would identify as PTSD), and later on, Freud criticizes him for showing so much fear: “Where was your great faith? Where was your precious joy in meeting your beloved Creator? Disappeared. Why? Because you know, beyond all your self-protective lies and your fairy tales that he does not exist.”

Even that film, which had such great potential for a debate on equal footing, ultimately came down much more heavily on Freud’s side of the argument, though C.S. Lewis is perhaps the world’s most famous modern example of a person whose life took him the other direction from atheism to faith. 

Heretic, too, as it left some of the lectures behind and began to slap together some blood and gore to appease the genre, wouldn’t let anyone keep their faith. The two missionary protagonists seem to have differing levels of conviction from the beginning. Sister Barnes is a worldly wise and subtly skeptical counterpoint to the endearing naivety of her companion, Sister Paxton, who continues to thank Mr. Reed for his time and his interesting thoughts while trying to flee. 

When (spoiler alert) Sister Paxton is the only one of the two left and bleeding out together with Mr. Reed, who has finally been dealt a deserved blow, he uncharacteristically asks her to pray for them. And even in this moment with the threat so much disarmed, she says, “Prayer doesn’t work” and then describes a scientific experiment that proved it (as though science, and a single experiment no less, would be the thing to trust on such a topic). “Lots of my friends were disappointed when they heard that,” she says, “But I don’t know why. I think … it’s beautiful that people pray for each other, even though we all probably know, deep down, it doesn’t make a difference.”

In the end, I saw this film as a call to action for filmmakers of faith. Not to make movies just to clapback at something like Heretic, but to express cinematically the effect and experience of faith, truly felt, even or especially in times of greatest pain and sorrow. It is clear that there is an overwhelming feeling among those in the mainstream media that belief toward unbelief is the only direction the current actually flows and those of us who still believe just haven’t made it far enough down the river yet. 

Little do they know that the very being whose name Christians carry suffered so severely and, in His final moments, called out to, rather than denied, His Father in Heaven. And His ancient apostles faced pain and suffering worthy of the horror genre and yet did not deny the divinity of their master. If faith were solely dependent on things only going well for the faithful, then Christianity would have quickly ended when the Romans were sending Christians to the lions for their beliefs. But the possibility of death by beasts didn’t kill their conviction because not all believers are fair-weather friends of Jesus. Our faith is not solely reliant on our ability to overpower our enemies or live a life free of pain.

Heretic’s ideological conclusion seems to come down pretty hard on the side of the charming British atheist who is incidentally also a psycho killer. But the seeming inevitability of that outcome doesn’t have to stay an inevitability forever. 

We all have to face “the problem of pain,” but some do it and yet believe. It’s time we saw it on film.

The post The Strange Faith Crisis at the Heart of ‘Heretic’ appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

In conversations across kitchen counters and in deep, comfy armchairs, Kai’s story came to life one “tell me more about that” at a time. Kai’s story begins in the peaceful countryside of Vietnam, four hours away from the bustling city of Saigon. Growing up on a family farm, Kai’s childhood was marked by simplicity and tranquility. He often helped his mother at their family’s baked goods stall, where the transformation of dough into delicious treats ignited his passion for cooking and baking. “During my third-grade year, I was so passionate about it that my brother bought me a baking book,” Kai recalls.

Around that same time, his family installed an internet connection. Kai vividly remembers overhearing his brother playing games in English. “I wondered what those words meant,” he says. “They looked cool, and it was the first time I realized that not everyone spoke Vietnamese.” As Kai’s interest in baking and English grew, he faced the challenge of finding ingredients and tools in the countryside. Undeterred, he turned to YouTube cooking shows, where he read subtitles and learned English through culinary terms like “sprinkle,” “boiling,” and “flipping.”

While exploring options that would satisfy both his aspirations and his parents’ wishes, Kai discovered the “food science” program at BYU-Idaho. This program offered not only professional culinary training but also an affordable education, which was crucial for his family. Notably, almost two-thirds of BYU-Idaho students graduate with zero student debt. The university takes families like Kai’s into consideration when making decisions about education costs at an administrative level. “We’re very serious about minimizing the financial burden of higher education,” said Alvin F. Meredith III, president of BYU-Idaho. The program aligned perfectly with Kai’s dream of professional culinary training. However, there was a unique aspect to the application process—an ecclesiastical endorsement. “I didn’t want to research the Church, but I needed to talk to a local religious leader,” Kai explains.

Despite initial doubts, this requirement led to a transformative journey. The first part of the journey started with a 5:00 a.m. three-hour trip to visit a local bishop of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As he was leaving the meeting, he saw a Book of Mormon sitting on display. With his natural curiosity and love for reading, he asked a missionary—Elder Romney, if he had a copy lying around for purchase. The elder happily handed the book to Kai. “No charge, it’s all yours, man.” Kai didn’t stop reading the entire ride back home. It quickly became the only book he would read. He started praying and studying the gospel almost every day. He read it diligently and took it everywhere he went: to school, to parks, the gym, and he even shared it with his friends. He had a two-hour lesson with his missionaries over Zoom every week. Four or five months passed, and during his usual lesson on a summer night, Elder Romney suddenly stopped, looked at Kai, and asked. “Do you believe The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true church of Christ?”—“Yes, I do.”— After a long pause, he continued, “Do you want to get baptized as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?”

“I do.”

During that time, Kai was also connected with a peer mentor from BYU-Idaho. “He started talking with me and texting on WhatsApp. It gave me and my family a lot of assurance.” This mentor not only provided guidance but also picked him up from the airport and helped him settle in. “I felt an immense feeling of gratefulness for someone I’d never met. He was volunteering and really a friend. I was just so overwhelmed!”

BYU-Idaho’s Peer Mentoring program pairs new students with experienced peers to help them connect to resources and adjust to campus life. “I think it’s a very unique thing that we do, and it comes from a place of compassion,” said senior Kimberly Coffman, a peer mentor at BYU-Idaho. “There are so many who want to participate as mentors. They know what it’s like to be on both sides of the student experience and just want to be able to help during what can be a difficult or just different transition.” Kai is now giving back by serving as a mentor for incoming first-year students.

The transition from a rural farming community in Vietnam to a rural university setting in Idaho was both surreal and comforting for Kai. While the landscapes were worlds apart, the familiar sense of community and simplicity provided a sense of home. BYU-Idaho, nestled in the quiet town of Rexburg, Idaho, mirrored the peacefulness Kai had known throughout his childhood. Here, students from diverse backgrounds come together, creating a supportive and nurturing environment. The International Services office’s self-proclaimed motto is “making sure students are happy, healthy, and safe.” They help international students obtain and maintain their student visas, adjust to Rexburg, and connect to resources from application to graduation and even to postgraduate internships. For other international students considering BYU-Idaho, Kai offers strong encouragement. “There are many international students here, and the native students are welcoming and kind. Even though there are no other Vietnamese students, they help me feel cared for and loved.”

The resources at BYU-Idaho extend beyond academics to include both physical and mental health support—Kai refers to the Hart Building as the most “magical” building on campus. He also appreciates the wholesome social environment that is different from other colleges, where social life often involves partying. “At BYU-Idaho, people go skating, have ice cream dates, watch movies—it feels like a safe place.”

Addressing common misconceptions about BYU-Idaho, Kai explains that while the honor code may seem strict, it nurtures agency and encourages personal growth. “If you’re struggling, the bishop and ward family are there to help you become a better person, not to force you.” This inclusive environment is reflective of the school’s 97% acceptance rate. Kai recognizes that some people may misunderstand that as a lack of prestige. However, Kai says he has found a strong academic environment. “Most of my friends here had 4.0s in high school,” he explains. “Somehow, the school keeps a balance of support alongside an expectation of excellence. My teachers come from rigorous academic backgrounds with a lot of research experience and have a willingness and enthusiasm for getting to know their students and striving to help them in every way possible.”

The mission of BYU-Idaho is to help students become disciples of Jesus Christ who are leaders in their homes, the Church, and their communities. “There is something special happening here in Rexburg. It’s not just in the buildings, it’s in the people,” said President Meredith. “Elder Bednar, when he was president of BYU-Idaho, gave a message to students just five weeks before he was called to be an apostle. He said, ‘Let me suggest that in Rexburg, Idaho, we are in the process of creating a disciple preparation center.’ I think that’s a powerful way to describe what BYU-Idaho is about.” 

Kai’s journey from the landscape of his childhood in the Vietnamese countryside to the heartland of the American West may have seemed improbable, but it is a testament to the power of perseverance, curiosity, and a community intentionally structured to support his success. His story reminds us that dreams can become reality. In the fertile soil of BYU-Idaho, a place that felt both foreign and familiar, Kai’s dreams and discipleship have taken root.

The post Vietnam to Idaho: A Journey of Faith and Flour appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

At the same time, it is worth exploring how serving a mission can impact a woman’s life. As the Church of Jesus Christ President Russell M. Nelson explains, “Good inspiration is based upon good information.” With that in mind, we recently wrote a research brief to distill for women facing this decision some of the ways missions often affect the missionary after the experience is over. While we know that the calculus behind the decision to serve a mission should not boil down to only considering tangible benefits and costs to a missionary, we believe it may be helpful for women to know more about how missions impact their futures as they consider this important decision.

Benefits to a Missionary

Missions can offer several personal, educational, and professional benefits to young women after they return. After returning, women say that missions offer a wide array of personal benefits, including opportunities to develop empathy, interpersonal relationship skills, courage, confidence, personal awareness, maturity, independence, and an increased ability to overcome challenges, to name a few. Some women also learn new languages. And even for women who don’t learn new languages, missions increase a woman’s view of the world, leading to greater racial and cultural acceptance. So, while no two mission experiences are alike, women tend to find the experience personally meaningful.

New research points to clear areas of academic benefit for women who serve missions. We recently conducted a study on college experiences of female returned missionaries at Brigham Young University and found that returned missionary sisters were 33% more likely to switch to a major with higher earning potential than those who did not take a break for a mission during their education. This may be due to women learning more about their abilities or having increased confidence. It may be due to new skills learned as a missionary that expand possibilities when they return to college. Whatever the causes for women often moving to new majors, it has long-term consequences as it opens future options. 

Women who serve missions also have slightly higher GPAs and take more credits per semester compared to women who do not serve missions. And among women who struggle academically, women who served missions were 19% more likely to be accepted into competitive academic programs like business than those who did not serve missions. Missions may be a way that women set themselves apart as they gain strengths not reflected in test scores or grades alone. 

Missions for women have professional benefits. Given that much of the professional gains likely come through developing soft skills, less is known about this area. Women develop skills in interpersonal communication, problem-solving, and grit, which are all helpful in work settings and can help women succeed in career endeavors. Our research highlights the value of choosing a major with higher earnings potential to prepare women for financial stability later in life. Whether through tangible or intangible channels, missions likely help women in their careers, educational endeavors, and personal lives.

Obstacles for Returning Missionaries

Latter-day Saints are not strangers to encountering obstacles and difficulties in serving others and following Jesus Christ. Therefore, it may not be surprising that our research on the effects of missions on women’s academic outcomes finds some drawbacks as well. For many women who choose to serve missions, the costs are well worth the benefits of personal growth, relationship building, and opportunities to help others. Nonetheless, it is important to think through the drawbacks.  

A salient cost of mission experiences is the monthly price tag. The fact that women serving missions still have regular expenses while not earning money for 18 months is a well-known obstacle and one that women and their families should be prepared for. Women also experience a related opportunity cost because they forgo education, working, or other personal endeavors for 18 months. Interestingly, returned missionaries express that making personal and financial sacrifices to serve a mission can sometimes actually enhance the experience.  

The obstacles women encounter upon returning from missionary service are less salient. Past research shows that time away from higher education reduces the likelihood of students returning and completing degrees. In our research, specifically looking at female BYU students returning from missions, we find that this obstacle is not as prevalent. Of those we studied who served missions, 96% returned to BYU following their mission. Due to mission and semester timing, some women do experience a one-semester delay in re-enrolling, which also delays graduation.

The larger obstacle for the women we studied was completing their college degrees after returning to school. We find that women who served missions were 10% less likely to graduate in eight years compared to women who did not serve missions. Since this potential cost does not immediately follow a return from a mission, it can be hard to factor into decisions and plans early on.

Benefits and Costs Taken Together

The experiences of many female missionaries depict a pattern of missionary service coming with benefits and costs, pros and cons to them personally. Laura Kreutzer, a BYU alumna who graduated in Family Life with an emphasis in Human Development, found that her mission experience significantly influenced her life and education. Of her mission to Birmingham, England, she recounts, “I got used to relating to people that I had very little in common with, which is an important social skill.” Upon returning to BYU after her mission, she also noticed increases in courage, emotional maturity, and tenacity that helped her better weather the stress and demands of college.  

Post-mission education was not without challenges for Kreutzer. Despite meeting with career advisors, she struggled to find internship opportunities. She describes, “I found it extremely difficult to get situated in a major headed towards a career.” Kreutzer’s experience sheds light on the struggle female returned missionaries may face in harnessing the skills they have developed toward graduation and employment. 

Strategies for Succeeding as a Returned Missionary

Based on the personal, educational, and professional benefits of serving a mission, as well as the obstacles returning missionaries face, we suggest three strategies to help women succeed when they return. In each area, loved ones, leaders, administrators, and counselors of these women can also provide support and guidance.

1. Before leaving school or other training, women should make firm plans about how and when to return to higher education or other training endeavors after mission experiences.  Family members and college and university advisors can encourage and support women in these plans.

2. Women returning from missions should recognize that they have unique skills, added confidence, and a broader understanding of themselves and the world. This may alter the educational or career path they will take. Women should feel empowered to take advantage of new opportunities, such as changing their majors or applying to competitive programs. University and career counselors can guide women in how to talk about mission experiences in terms of their abilities, interests, and skills that are applicable to coursework and employment.

3. Women returning from missions should find strong support systems that will continue beyond the first semester or year. Family, Church leaders, and college and university advisors of returned missionary women can be aware that these women may need additional support and flexible options to ensure they can continue to make progress toward graduation. This support should be extended even multiple years after women return home.

Ultimately, choosing to serve a mission is a significant and personal decision for young Latter-day Saint women. Each woman will have a unique and often life-changing experience. As Kreutzer related, she “developed a closer relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, which improves every other area of life.”  

Our research demonstrates that serving a mission also shapes women and their future educational and career outcomes. While not the main reason for serving a mission, these findings may be important for women to consider when choosing to go on a mission and when looking to find meaning in mission experiences.

The post Implications of Latter-day Saint Missions for Young Women appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Wiseman, however, began to question the effectiveness of his online missionary work. He was gaining followers but couldn’t shake the feeling that some of his posts were causing more harm than good. He even considered closing his accounts and limiting his proselyting efforts to the physical world. He realized he was coming across as an attack dog for his beliefs when he wanted to be a missionary.

What distinguishes a culture warrior from a missionary?

Culture warriors actively promote and defend their ideology in a combative manner. The Latter-day Saint writer Nathaniel Givens described them as manipulated by “cultural warmongers” who profit from anger and contention. Missionaries, on the other hand, promote their beliefs in a charitable manner under God’s guidance.

The key difference between a culture warrior and a missionary is the audience. Culture warriors do not care about the person they are directly interacting with. They care about the audience observing the interaction. They want the attention and approval of those who already agree with them, making their behavior a bid for popularity.

Sherem, from the Book of Mormon, is an excellent example of an ancient culture warrior. He attempted to lead people away from God towards his own ideology and sought an audience with Jacob to humiliate him and disprove his beliefs publicly. However, Jacob proved him wrong, and Sherem lost all his followers after what appeared to be a divinely inflicted cardiac event. Jacob’s supporters still attempted to nourish Sherem back to health, but he passed away in disgrace.

In contrast, a missionary’s audience is the person he or she is interacting with and, secondarily, anyone who observes the exchange. Missionaries seek to understand and connect with the person in front of them, even when that person treats them as an enemy. And their goal is not to rally those observing but to edify them. 

How to identify a culture warrior 

It’s easy to detect culture warriors because they cherry-pick individuals and messages that they disagree with. Then they tear them apart in front of an audience. Culture warriors grab short clips or screenshots of the most extreme people and the easiest arguments to ridicule. They may even falsely attribute an idea to someone and then attack them for it.

By choosing the most extreme opponents, their goal is clearly not to change minds but rather to increase enmity between their side and the other. Their opponents often don’t even know they are under attack because it is happening in some hidden corner of the Internet, or the culture warrior takes a screenshot and places it somewhere where only his tribe can react. The culture warrior might even use religious or cultural references that are clearly intended for his audience, and that wouldn’t make sense to the outsider they are supposedly speaking with. 

This is not to say that evaluating bad arguments or pointing out fallacies is wrong. Getting to the truth is a worthy pursuit. The point is that we should strive to recognize the humanity of the people on the other side and treat them with compassion. This is understandably difficult because people on the other side are frequently anonymous, and they appear only as names and pictures above a line or two of diatribe.

Why do culture warriors mistreat the opposition?

Instead of seeing those on the other side as fellow children of God, culture warriors view their ideological opponents as threats to their most treasured worldviews. They have a competitive longing to win one for their team. And in this binary view of them and us, any disagreement can read as a challenge or even an insult. 

When their enemies say or do anything that they interpret as menacing, their threat response is activated. During this process, blood flow to the brain decreases along with their ability to focus. Their blood pressure and negative emotions rise, and it becomes difficult to see the long-term consequences of their behavior. If the danger is large enough, they lash out. Latter-day Saints and other believers do not need to succumb to this threat response because their faith informs them of the long-term success of their cause.

Culture warriors’ hearts are at war. They are not open to learning from or connecting with those they perceive as enemies. They become combatants, often willing to engage in personal attacks and other dehumanizing behavior. More than anything, they want to win and feel vindicated. They may also desire to crush their enemy’s will and capacity to fight in the future.

Missionaries’ hearts are at peace

Because missionary work, by definition, requires interacting with those who see the world differently, the work involves a certain amount of conflict. Missionaries approach their conversation partners as equals and employ gentle persuasion. They do not manipulate or coerce. 

Chel Owens is a good example of an online missionary. She has a modest online web series where she explains her beliefs and interacts with readers. What makes her messages effective is that she shares a part of herself and what has improved her life. She builds up her readers instead of tearing them down. She connects with them one by one in the comments.

Jesus Christ is a perfect example of a missionary. He spoke candidly to his enemies in public, even harshly at times. Yet, Christ was not a culture warrior. Yes, His messages benefited all those who heard Him, and he spoke of salvation and healing to his disciples, to those who wanted him dead, and to curious bystanders. He offered advice tailored to the needs of the scribes and Pharisees who so often harassed Him. If they had chosen to listen and follow it, their lives would have been blessed.

Although missionaries do not always achieve their objective, they strive for unity and peace. They pray for and attempt to help those who disagree with them, even defending their enemies against hyperbole and unwarranted attacks. Missionaries know that the idle comments of Internet trolls cannot jeopardize God’s plans. 

How do you avoid turning into a culture warrior?

To avoid becoming a culture warrior, it’s best to step back from conversations when you prioritize winning over helping your conversation partner, when you feel angry and want to retaliate, when you seek to crush an individual instead of evaluating their ideas, when you twist someone’s content instead of interpreting it positively, when you dehumanize your conversation partner, or when you prioritize likes over the person in front of you.

If you remain focused on building God’s kingdom by caring for others, you cannot become a culture warrior. While the desire to be respected, the competitive drive to win, and the urge to retaliate are all natural inclinations, there is more happiness and fulfillment in missionary work than there is in online battles. Servant-missionaries are more likely to find personal growth and closer relationships because they can connect with and maybe even learn from those who see the world differently.

The post Are You a Missionary or a Culture Warrior? appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

As I tuned in more closely, I realized that I was listening to a dinner table conversation among a diverse group of Colorado voters. Paying even closer attention, I noticed that the dinner guests were amicably discussing really hot political topics without getting riled.

While I had never listened to a dinner table conversation on the radio before, I was surprised by how warmly and openly these “dinner guests” were talking with their so-called political enemies. Soon, the broadcast narrator explained Denver Public Radio’s novel approach to reconciliation. Rather than grill voters and expose their many differences, the show producers brought voters to a literal dinner table to have a different kind of exchange with each other. Perhaps, the radio producers were aware that the word “reconciliation” stems from the Latin root “to sit again with.” 

When we reconcile with others—whether political rivals, family members, or even neighbors—we seek to restore relationships with each other and attempt to integrate our divergent views into a shared narrative. Unlike forgiveness, which can take place without seeking to mend an interpersonal relationship, reconciliation implies that we actually try to connect with someone who has offended us or whom we have offended. When we reconcile, we cease estrangement, which implies “alienation” and “being strangers to each other.” When we seek reconciliation, we suspend our disbelief about the other’s goodness and seek connection in an attitude of curiosity, humility, and courage. 

My own Experience with Reconciliation

Many years ago as a missionary in southern Japan, I experienced the harrowing, dark experience of being isolated and emotionally hurt by some fellow missionaries. As my “family” in a foreign land, I assumed they would support me rather than make my life more difficult.

At first, I was only verbally isolated. The elders began calling our apartment and only requesting to speak with my native Japanese companion named Sister Suzuki. After weeks of repeat phone calls to check in with my companion, the elders began requesting the presence of my companion at their appointments while I was left to sit outside in the church hallway by myself, feeling unneeded and superfluous. 

Following these experiences that left me feeling ostracized and distressed, one afternoon while I was teaching a missionary lesson, my district leader opened the classroom door, pulled up a chair, and took over the lesson I was teaching. Despite my skill with Japanese and substantial missionary experience, he had earlier commented in our district meeting that “if the sisters just had skills in addition to their faith, they would see baptisms.” Soon thereafter, as what felt at the time like a further personal blow, he and his companion chose to send me to another nearby city for two weeks where I learned via mission gossip that this insensitive elder was determined to “pop [my] pride bubble.” 

Following my two-week hiatus in the nearby city where the elders had sent me, all the missionaries on the island gathered for a conference. While sitting by myself, I noticed Elder Williams walking up to me with a concerned look on his face. Calmly, but directly, he asked: “Are you okay?” 

Knowing him to be a sincere and kind person, I hesitatingly said “No, I’m not,” and spent the next 30-40 minutes in private confidence with him. As I shared my desire to be loved and understood, he hardly said anything, but tears fell down his face in a steady stream of empathy. His presence and caring bridged the great lonely divide I had experienced estranged from all others in a foreign land. 

Following our conversation, I was soon transferred to a new area where I could focus on more positive relationships and experiences. Despite the change of scenery and increased calm, I was not personally reconciled to those who had hurt me; they had just been removed from my life for a period of time. True reconciliation about these wounds would unfold over more than ten years through a cascade of gratifying and peace-giving experiences.  

Shortly after returning to BYU, I recognized this same insensitive elder walking home on the sidewalk opposite my university apartment. While I thought it was just a fluke, I soon realized that he lived just across the street from me. I ended up seeing him in person several times a week. While I never discussed anything with him, provoked by his continued presence, I sought forgiveness through a private, spiritual process that allowed me to move on.  

However, more than a year after returning home, I opened my BYU apartment door to find Sister Suzuki standing before me. This reserved, formal Japanese woman took me in her arms and said over and over again, “I am so sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t really understand what was going on. Please forgive me. Please forgive me.” As she held me in her arms, I wept. While my wound had been deep, her reassuring arms, words, and obvious understanding of my pain bridged the gap between us. We were reconciled as sisters once again. 

Lastly, more than a decade after my missionary service, I turned around in a church class to find the insensitive elder’s companion seated behind me all the way from Asia. His very presence rattled me and brought back the actual feelings of heartache and distress that I had experienced so many years prior. 

Believing his presence in my life to be an inspired opportunity, I reached out to him. We began a conversation that helped me understand his point of view—especially the decision to send me to another city that I had considered a punishment. After voicing the sources of my pain, I learned that he had been aware of my angst, but honestly assumed that time in another city would help me. Learning about his positive motivations helped me to understand and ultimately forgive him for his part in the darkest days of my mission. Real dialogue led to greater understanding, which lessened any divide still between us.

How does reconciliation relate to peacemaking?

As reflected here, reconciliation is a powerful form of peacemaking. Rather than merely the absence of war, peace implies an increase or restoration of tranquility, calm, understanding, and connection. Truly, peace is no abstraction, and has beautiful substance; once created, this peace can be woven throughout humanity via our sincere, ongoing acts of justice, grace, and love. One powerful way we create peace is through constructively handling the conflicts and misunderstandings we face, both individually and collectively. 

Reconciliation, as I sought with my fellow missionaries, lies at the heart of resolving conflicts, which usually originate from real or perceived incompatible goals. When we seek to reconcile with others, we replace our immediate goal to be right, to win, to hold onto hurt, or to obtain some coveted prize, with the goal of demonstrating love, concern, and connection. “Blessed are the peacemakers” because they choose to create and mend rather than demean and destroy.

To create greater peace through reconciliation with others, then, we must do more than wish or hope for better relationships. President Joseph F. Smith said during the middle of WWI: “Peace comes by preparing for peace, through training the people in righteousness and justice” (Improvement Era, Sept. 1914, pp. 1074-75). 

Adding to this idea, Elder John A. Widtsoe stated: “The only way to build a peaceful community is to build men and women who are lovers and makers of peace. Each individual, by that doctrine of Christ and His Church, holds in his own hands the peace of the world. That makes me responsible for the peace of the world and makes you individually responsible for the peace of the world” (In Conference Report, Oct. 1943, p. 113).

Going even deeper, Prophet David O. McKay declared, “Peace will come and be maintained only through the triumph of the principles of peace, and by the consequent subjection of the enemies of peace, which are hatred, envy, ill-gotten gain, the exercise of unrighteous dominion by [people with power]. Yielding to these evils brings misery to the individual, unhappiness to the home, war among nations (Gospel Ideals, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Col, 1953, p. 280).”

From the social sciences, we know that we are social beings intimately linked together for connection and survival. That means inevitably and inescapably, we are seriously affected by the thoughts, feelings, and actions of those around us. We literally cannot survive for long without each other. From those from Christian faith backgrounds, they believe that God expects us to seek reconciliation with each other even before we go to worship Him (see Matthew 15:22-24; Matthew 15:18). While most of us understand the importance of reconciling with others, we also know that it can be very difficult for a variety of reasons. Rather than dwell on why we resist reconciling with each other, I suggest we focus on how we can (1) prepare to reconcile with others, and (2) begin taking the steps of actually reconciling with others once we are prepared. As the Lord says in one sacred Latter-day Saint text, “if ye are prepared, ye shall not fear.” 

How do I prepare to reconcile with others? 

In his recent book Fault Lines: Fractured Families and How to Mend, Professor Karl Pillemer of Cornell University lays out tangible steps for overcoming estrangement, especially in families. Following five years of intensive research on the process of reconciliation, he suggests the following: 

(1) Consider if you’re really ready to reconcile. One way to tell that you might be ready is by experiencing feelings of anticipated regret like “Will it be too late?”

(2) Think of key questions to ask yourself such as “What do I want out of a restored relationship?” and  “What if the other person is not willing to reconcile?” 

(3) Develop a plan and consider counseling to sort through your questions and concerns. There is no weakness in seeking wisdom and guidance from professionals.  

(4) Explore your role in the estrangement. This isn’t about accepting blame but understanding how you might have been involved. 

(5) Reduce your expectations about the actual experience of reconciling. Recognize some of the more difficult possibilities that may occur.  For instance, the person may not have changed; may not accept you; they may even hurt you further if you make yourself too vulnerable.

(6) Give up on being right and accept that the other person may never apologize to you.

As we prepare to engage in actual steps of reconciliation, we can flesh out our options and seek guidance and counsel. Some of these steps may require time and considerable personal reflection. 

How do I begin reconciling with others and mending relationships?

Once we are ready to seek direct reconciliation with another person, we should consider the actual steps required to rebuild a relationship if the other person is interested. In my experience, these include: 

1. Sharing your desire to reconcile. This can be conveyed through a kind gesture, a written note, a phone call, or another form of communication.
2. Giving it time and keeping your expectations in check. We are not all ready at the same time to bridge our divides. 
3. Acknowledging what has hurt you with words like: “I felt so much pain when you left, and I never heard from you again” rather than blunt assertions that can feel overly accusing, such as “You hurt me so badly.” 
4. Listening to the other person’s perspective and demonstrating that you heard their perspective by summarizing such as: “I hear you saying that you were confused about how to respond and were waiting for me to initiate the first step?”
5. Apologizing for anything you have done wrong. “I’m so sorry that I never shared what hurt me with you” or “I’m sorry that I tried to tear you down because I was so angry.”  
6. Asking for and accepting forgiveness. “Will you forgive me for saying all those awful things when you left?” and “Thank you for saying sorry. That means so much to me.” 
7. Focusing on the present relationship. “What do you think would help us get to know each other again?” 
8. Beginning to rebuild trust through communication, creating new memories, and acceptance of what is.

Despite the risk of further hurt and rejection, I have learned for myself how much we put ourselves in a position to access greater personal peace, understanding, and connection when we take that leap to reconcile. In fact, Dr. Pillemer of Fault Lines emphasized that “100% of the people who reach out and tried to mend a relationship after estrangement called the act a paramount achievement in their adult lives.” 

As ambassadors for Christ in this ministry of reconciliation, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland promised the following: 

I testify of the tranquility to the soul that reconciliation with God and each other will bring if we are meek and courageous enough to pursue it. Cease to contend with another, the Savior pled. If you know of an old injury, repair it. Care for one another in love. 

My beloved friends, in our shared ministry of reconciliation, I ask us to be peacemakers—to love peace, to seek peace, to create peace, to cherish peace. I make that appeal in the name of the Prince of Peace (“The Ministry of Reconciliation” Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, General Conference October 2018).

From personal experience, I know that reconciliation—even with those who have hurt us deeply—is possible. We may need to forgive certain people through a private, spiritual process as I did, but there are many others who will become our true brothers and sisters again if we open the door to reconciling our differences. May we all hear this appeal from the Lord.  In these times of angst, accusation, and agitation, heaven knows it’s exactly what America needs. 

The post Personal Reconciliation: A Pathway to Peace appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

This ecumenical spirit is not only a gift to members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from their founding prophet—it is also a gift (one of many) to a modern world fractured by partisanship and tribalism.

I was saddened by a recent Pew Research Center finding that most people fail a basic religious literacy test. This Pew survey presented respondents from various faiths with 32 fact-based, multiple-choice questions about Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Sikhism, atheism and agnosticism.

“On average,” the report says, “Jews, atheists, agnostics and evangelical Protestants score highest on the new survey of religious knowledge, outperforming members of other Protestant traditions, Catholics, [Latter-day Saints] and Americans who describe their religion as ‘nothing in particular.’” 

My people, the Latter-day Saints, answered 43 percent of questions correctly—a failing grade. To be fair, Latter-day Saints have performed better on similar tests in prior years. And, even Jews, who scored highest, averaged only 56 percent—also an F.

This Pew report, then, reaffirms what we learned as a nation during the 2016 election: We don’t know much about those who are not like us. If we socialize at all, we do so with those we already know. We are comfortable around like-minded people. If we are religious, it seems, we prefer to focus our attention solely on our own faith.

This is an irony for Christians of all stripes, including Latter-day Saints. We are a missionary-minded people. We have a message that has blessed millions of lives and we believe it can bless billions more in unique ways. We take seriously the New Testament call of Christ to “make disciples of all nations.” Another portion of the Latter-day Saint canon, revealed to Joseph Smith in 1831, promotes proselytizing with equal force. Jesus told Latter-day Saints, “ye are not sent forth to be taught, but to teach the children of men the things which I have put into your hands” (emphasis mine). Latter-day Saints are well trained to evangelize the faith to anyone who will lend an ear. 

But Pew seems to say (and my sliver of life experience in northern Utah confirms) that, as strong as we are in so many other important areas, we are often unskilled as a people at listening to those to whom we are preaching. Followers of Christ must ask themselves a hard question: How can we expect others to come worship with us, read our holy books, and turn their lives upside down for us if we aren’t willing to reciprocate? 

One way to reconcile Jesus’s charge to teach and not be taught is to balance it with His other teachings. Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) counseled Church educators to not “teach the scriptures in isolation from each other.” “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you,” Jesus says in the New Testament (and in slightly different language in the Book of Mormon). This is more than just a nice idea made for a Pinterest meme. Jesus doesn’t deal in banalities. “This is the law and the prophets,” Jesus (in my mind) emphatically adds. Yes, you have been given a pearl of great price that will bless the world in incalculable ways. But another key to bringing your brothers and sisters closer to Me and making the world one is your genuine interest in them as my children who have much to teach you.

I am as guilty as anyone in transgressing this commandment. Hindsight has helped me see how immature and prideful I was as a 19-year-old Latter-day Saint missionary in the former Soviet Union. On Easter Sunday, 2004, a cheerful 50-something woman in the eastern Ukraine city of Makiivka greeted me and others with the words, “Dear brothers and sisters, Christ is risen!” She was joyful and serious, and the group around us responded, almost in unison, “Indeed, He is risen!”

These Ukrainian Latter-day Saints were exchanging a Paschal greeting, an Easter custom they carried over from their Eastern Orthodox faith tradition. That night I wrote in my journal: “On Easter, the people here say ‘Иисус Воскрес’ [Jesus is risen] … in greetings, in testimonies, in talks, in lessons, saying goodbye. A little annoying.”

My lack of wonder as a Latter-day Saint Christian in response to the beautiful Easter tradition of another faith culture reflects an absence of interest in the people I was called to serve. Frankly, this was too common for me and other missionaries. Our passionate faith sometimes covered over our humility and blinded us to the goodness all around us. I wonder how many more people I could have helped had I gone slower, listened more intently, and observed more deeply what God was trying to teach me through those humble, hospitable people.

The Apostle Paul told the Saints in Corinth to be “imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” Had I known more about Joseph Smith when I was a missionary, I could have better imitated his Christlike largeness of soul, hospitality, and open-mindedness. 

Those three traits were on display on a warm and rainy December evening in Portage County, Ohio in 1835. On that night, Joseph and a Baptist from a nearby town showed the world what it looks like to engage in constructive dialogue with a neighbor. John Hollister, a Closed Communion Baptist, visited Joseph to learn more about the faith tradition he helped restore five years prior. Hollister had heard “many reports of the worst character” about the Latter-day Saints and wanted to come see for himself if those accounts had any merit. The two talked all evening. Joseph found John to be candid and sincere, and even gave him a room to rest in for the night. 

The next morning, after no doubt ruminating all night on what he had observed and heard the previous day, John shared a humbling insight with Joseph. Not only had his understanding of the Latter-day Saints changed—so too had his conception of religion generally. “Although he thought he knew something about religion he was now sensible that he new but little, which was the greatest, trait of wisdom that I could discover in him,” Joseph said. Three days later, John stopped by Joseph’s home to say goodbye. “[John] remarked that he had been in darkness all his days, but had now found the light and intended to obey it,” Joseph said. 

Imagine that. A Baptist was blessed by what he learned from a Latter-day Saint. The Latter-day Saint is impressed by the Baptist’s deep wisdom and humility in the face of more information. Both, no doubt, were made better by the experience. Apply this today and replace “Baptist” and “Latter-day Saint” for the religious, social or political descriptor of your choice. Can you imagine the healing that would come if such dialogue happened in communities around the world? 

Happily, such dialogue is sprouting up around the world, across virtually every religious conflict that exists. For example, Jews and Palestinians have carried on vibrant dialogue for years outside of the limelight. And we have our own examples at the highest level of Latter-day Saint leadership. Just this year, President Russell M. Nelson visited Pope Francis at the Vatican, engaged in constructive dialogue with several Muslim leaders from New Zealand and Saudi Arabia, and welcomed the affable archbishop of New York to Temple Square. And that is only a sampling of his and his fellow apostles’ interfaith outreach.

In a Book of Mormon scripture, the Messiah asks, “Wherefore murmur ye, because that he shall receive more of my word?” Shifting the focus to religious literacy, I can imagine that same Savior saying, “What do you have against being more blessed by the diversity of my creation? Don’t you want more wisdom, more truth, more holiness, more friends who can help you think more deeply and more rigorously?” Truly, our God has placed us together on this planet to help and learn from each other. 

Yes, they can learn from us. But we can also learn from them. “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers,” the letter to the Hebrews says, “for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

So let’s open up our metaphorical pulpits to one other, adopt both the welcoming spirit of Joseph Smith and the inquisitive nature of John Hollister, and bask in the grace of such angelic associations.

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